At last Tim's efforts were successful, and pushing the gate forward, he walked into the yard.
On he came towards the stable, past the window where the two watchers stood motionless, and then his head appeared through the doorway.
'Hush!' whispered Major Raeburn, afraid that Robin would break the silence.
Straight towards the bin where the oats were kept did Tim go, and here he paused and looked around.
Fumble, fumble, fumble, went his nose against the iron bolt of the bin; but Tim was an expert burglar, and not easily discouraged. After many failures, his struggles were crowned by success, and Tim pressed up the lid with his strong, brown head until, with a dull thud, it feel back against the wall; then whisking his tail over his back, with a movement that expressed perfect satisfaction, Tim's head disappeared in the depths of the oats-bin.
Then, but not till then, did Major Raeburn and Robin give way to their mirth.
'Upon my word,' said the Major, 'that donkey is just a little too clever for any ordinary family.'
'Come out of that, you little villain!' he shouted to Tim, who was evidently making the most of this golden opportunity; 'and allow me to tell you that this is the last feed of oats you will be able to steal.'
'Are you going to drive, Father?' asked Harry, in a tone of dismay, when he saw his father take the reins.